


of fluffy blankets and christmastime.

by idkspookystuff



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Christmas, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drinking (mentioned), Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, the slightest amount of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkspookystuff/pseuds/idkspookystuff
Summary: in the aftermath of their christmas party, john thinks about life in south carolina and realizes there's nowhere he'd rather be than in the arms of the two people he loves most.





	of fluffy blankets and christmastime.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lokithegodofsass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokithegodofsass/gifts).



> wowowowowow
> 
> merry christmas to my favorite person literally ever.
> 
> josie - 
> 
> you make me smile all the time and laugh until i'm crying and you make the dark times a little bit better. thanks for dealing with my depression and my shitty writing dry-spell this year. i hope you appreciate this hamilton fanfic because i haven't written any in literally forever and you're the entire reason i'm into hamilton so.
> 
> i love you so much and i can't wait for christmases to come where we can fall alseep together.
> 
> <3
> 
> [-sebastian](http://gorgeousdan.tumblr.com)

John’s under a giant fluffy blanket when Lafayette walks into the living room of their loft, his hair tied back and his glasses on. The two of them share a look but don’t say anything. John simply lifts the blanket and offers the spot to Lafayette. Laf graciously accepts, gets under the blanket and pulls John into his side.

John curls into Lafayette and takes in a deep breath. Laf smells like his cologne and cookie dough and something so distinctly  _ him  _ that it’s like a drug. It’s  _ them _ , it’s home, and it lulls John into a sleepy state.

A camera shutter goes off from across the room and both John and Lafayette turn to its source. Alexander, still in a suit, smiles at the two of them. “Y’all are so cute, the fuck.” He’s picked up some of John’s ‘ _ southern-isms _ ’ and it’s honestly adorable.

For a second, it makes John long for Christmas back home with his momma and his younger siblings; Jamie making him play with his toys with him, Junior rolling his eyes at them, texting whatever girl he was into at the time, Martha smacking Junior for being an asshole and not spending Christmas with his family. In the middle of it all, Momma, soft and sweet and smelling like cookies, telling her kids to be nice to each other, always letting John sneak a little cookie dough when the others weren’t looking.

Alexander, who has settled in on the other side of John, pokes his boyfriend in the side. “Hey,” he says gently. He throws an arm over John’s shoulders. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

“Nothin’,” John answers. He picks at Lafayette’s leggings. “Christmas in Charleston.” 

Lafayette gives him a sad little smile. “I know how you miss it, mon ami,” he says gently. He squeezes John’s shoulders and adds, “I tell you we can go, the three of us, non? I mean this.”

“I know, babe,” John says. He gives Lafayette a small little smile, laces his fingers with Alexander’s. “It’s just different since-”

-since his mom died. Now that his dad’s all quiet, doesn’t have someone to stop him from voicing his opinions about John’s boyfriends, makes offhand remarks about John being a queer artist in New York City, wishes he was straight and a lawyer and in Charleston. John knows he means well, honestly, but it’s a little too difficult to deal with at Christmas.

“I know, baby boy,” Alexander says. He kisses John’s cheek and stretches. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.” 

Together, the three of them stand. Lafayette and Alexander wrap John in the blanket and lead him to their bedroom. Alexander goes to get changed while Lafayette simply strips of his shirt. The sight of Lafayette shirtless is enough to make anyone drool, but John’s exhausted and all he wants to do is sleep. 

John gets under the covers and watches Lafayette fix some things up, shut the blinds, turn out the lights. Laf gets in next to John, pulls him close to his chest. Soon, the bed dips and Alexander’s at his other side, tracing lazy patterns down his back, face pressed into John’s mane of hair.

John smiles into the crook of Lafayette’s neck. So maybe Laf doesn’t make cookies exactly the way his momma would, and maybe Alexander doesn’t tease him as hard as his siblings, but it doesn’t matter. His mom always used to say that having a family meant making your own traditions, and they have. 

They’ve had a crazy Christmas; more people in their loft than the NYPD probably allows. They all drank a little too much, John danced most of the night away pressed between Hercules and Peggy, was spun into Lafayette’s arms, giggled as they danced together.

This is the best part, though. After everyone’s left, pressed together, the only noise coming from the cars passing by below them, the only light the moon that still manages to stream through their blinds.

“Merry Christmas, guys,” John says, his voice heavy.

Alexander kisses his head. “Merry Christmas, baby boy.”

Lafayette does the same. “Merry Christmas, chaton.” 

A very merry Christmas indeed.


End file.
